This is the entry I didn't actually upload last night due to the unplanned passing out next to Sam when I tried to put him to bed. But it's here now.

I'm sick. Nobody wants to hear about my illness; I realize that. Since that's the only thing on my mind right now, though, I give you the first installment of reader questions! Today we'll focus on the Sam questions.

Kathy writes:

"Do you and Eric plan on future children? Sam seems to be a wonderful and amazing boy, and I feel that you and Eric are great parents. I understand now that life has been very difficult. What do you see for your future? Pretend it's a perfect world, and money, location, job, etc. weren't issues. Would you LIKE to have another child? Do you feel any pressure to have any more? Do any family members pressure you to have another?"

Okay, a perfect world? Sure, I'd like to have another. The key is that, even if finances were golden, I'd still want to wait another few years. Sam is still nursing, and although I know people for whom nursing through pregnancy and tandem nursing have been beautiful experiences, I also know people for whom those experiences have been something out of the Seventh Circle of Hell. Frankly, I'd rather not play the odds, and I also really want to allow him the freedom to choose when he weans.

Then there's the fact that he's still very attached to sleeping in our bed. I love sharing sleep with him, but I also know that it would be most unsafe to have him share sleep with a newborn. Waiting until he's completed the process of removing himself from our bed seems like the most rational thing to do.

And I love being a family of three right now. Even though Sam's growing so quickly, he's still very much a baby, complete with lapses in vocabulary, diapers, and needing to be carried frequently. He's just two, and I don't want to rush him into being a bigger boy than I think he should have to be right now. We're all enjoying simply letting him find his own pace right now.

But, yes, I'd love another child someday if the situation permits it. Even Eric, who is more reluctant than I am to begin the whole process over again, has his moments where he wonders if it might not be the best thing for Sam to give him a sibling. It's not yet on our horizon, but it's possible that it's lurking just beyond. Ask me again when Sam is, say, about five years old.

And, no, we haven't really been getting any pressure from family or people who know us, largely because I think they're all aware of where we stand and know better than to try to change our (rather stubborn) minds. It helps that Sam's cousin is likely to remain an only child; we're not alone.

Reader Lisa writes:

"Firstly - when did you begin solids with Sam and which foods did you begin with?"

We started when Sam was about seven months old. Our research seemed to indicate that starting before that might lead to iron problems, and we were just as happy to wait. I believe that Sam's first food was applesauce, largely out of convenience; he was flipping out at a restaurant, they offered us applesauce, and we decided that it was probably okay. He enjoyed it, but still wasn't overly enamored with solids. I don't think that happened until he discovered the Wonderful World of Crunchy Things. He did love yogurt, though.

Andrea asks:

"If you were to homeschool Sam, what sort of curriculum/method appeals most to you?"

I think we're likely to use a mishmash of techniques and ideas. Ideally, I'd love to be able to unschool him, but it will depend on the environment in which we find ourselves. A friend of mine unschools and has great success, but she and her husband are university professors, and their three boys are in constant exposure to all sorts of new ideas and subjects. Their curiosity is continually stimulated in all arenas of maths, sciences, literature, history - I could go on and never stop. Would Sam get the same stimulation living in a smaller town without exposure to professors and students of all subjects? Would his studies suffer for lack of exposure - for lack of even realizing that certain fields may exist or that they might interest him? I fret about that.

So, likely, I'd use some curricula (I've heard good things about Saxon math, though I haven't really examined it), but allow ourselves not to be tethered to any one direction or course. I plan to let his interests guide us, but use other methods to keep our momentum going. Does that make sense? Can you tell I haven't really looked at any particular methods yet?

And, finally, reader Robin writes:

I have noticed that a number of parents who choose homebirth, attachment parenting, co-sleeping, and similar choices also choose not to circumcise their male children. You never mentioned whether Sam was during his birth days or discussed it in any detail that I noticed.

You're right, I didn't. I actually didn't discuss it because this, among other subjects, is one that I realize makes many mothers feel really defensive over their choices. I have no wish for my personal decision to hurt other people.

Still, I'm happy to answer the question about what Eric and I decided to do. Sam is intact; we believe that his parts are, for lack of a more apt description, his parts. If he decides to one day make alterations to them, via circumcision, piercings, tattoos, etc. (and I'm obviously not just talking about genitals, here), then we feel that it should be his decision, not ours. The "locker room argument" holds no weight with us, as the number of intact boys in the country is steadily rising (plus, as Eric says, to be teased, first another boy would have to admit to looking at somebody else's penis). Besides, everybody looks different - intact or circumcised, large or small, black or white, straight or curved. Do we really want to perform surgery to try to make a boy's genitals, of all things, look the same as what we think the norm should be?

I do realize that there are those who've made medically-based arguments for circumcision. the American Cancer Society says that "circumcision is not of value in preventing cancer of the penis." I'll take their word for it. As far as cleanliness goes, it's relatively easy to keep clean; before the foreskin retracts (which it should do on its own with no assistance from doctors or parents), it's self-cleaning. After that, you simply teach the boy how to wash it. It's certainly no harder than teaching girls how to care for their own, decidedly more complicated, parts.

But these are factors that went into our own decision. I don't judge those who may have decided differently; I personally feel that there are much greater issues that go into the shaping of a child than this issue.

Got a question? Send it in!